


times are getting hard

by Chiomi



Series: Measuring in Years [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Miscarriage, No Sex, Pregnancy, Sibling Incest, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiomi/pseuds/Chiomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura turns twenty deliriously terrified and almost entirely sure that she’s pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	times are getting hard

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats on surviving finals, Alexis.
> 
> Thank you to Kelly and Piper for the fast betas - you are delightful.

Laura turns twenty deliriously terrified and almost entirely sure that she’s pregnant. It’s snowing outside and her and Derek’s little room is freezing, so she lies under the covers with her hands over her stomach. Her last period ended a week before Thanksgiving, and they can both tell that her scent’s changed a little. The scent could be a red herring, because they’ve moved to New York and she usually has the smell of subway and diner clinging to her like an olfactory shadow.

Human pregnancy tests don’t work on werewolves, and they don’t have an emissary anymore: Deaton had taken an axe to the nemeton and severed any bond that might have lingered. So all Laura has to go on is a feeling and a period that might just be disrupted from the stress of living in the city. Even with all her senses turned inward, she’s not - sure. Not exactly.

Derek stumbles in and starts stripping immediately, a long process of scarves and hat and coats. Werewolf metabolism only goes so far when you’re from California, and their second winter out on the East Coast is just as bad as their first. He’s got a foil bag inside the hoodie closest to his chest, and tosses it to her as soon as it’s free.

Laura sniffs even as she’s opening it: burritos. She sighs happily and scarfs one down, half-finished by the time Derek’s in sweats and with her on the bed. He buries his cold nose in the crook of her neck for a moment until she shoves him away, then starts on his own burrito. He’s eating sort of mechanically, and she’d worry that he was slipping back down into the deep dark pit of grief, but he’s not like this when he hasn’t just finished a sixteen hour day, so it’s fine.

“How were classes today?”

Derek gets out both of their second burritos, crumples the bag, and tosses it in the bin in the corner. “Okay. I think Intro To Statistical Analysis is going to be cool.”

He manages to dredge up a few more words as he eats his second burrito; about customers at the bar, about people in his classes, about all of the papers he’ll have to write for his English class. It means Laura finishes before him and can lay back down and curl around his back. He lays a hand on her back, right on the other side of her spine from where something is growing in her.

It’s comforting, sort of. Laura’s terrified of what’s happening, of what it might mean - it’s what she’s dreamt of, but it’s - God, they’re not ready to be parents, could never tell anyone that Derek was the father. She doesn’t really feel in control, now. They get up and brush their teeth, eventually, and then curl up together under the covers. Derek puts himself between her and the door, which is new, and ends up with a hand on her stomach.

She doesn’t shift with the moon. It’s the completion of the admission she’s been avoiding making. She’s not sure if it would be safe for the baby, and doesn’t have anyone to ask. She can’t remember if her mom had shifted with Cora, but that’s a different question altogether because it was the full shift.

She has the day off, because her boss here is a friend of Mary’s and has always given her the day of the full moon off. Derek’s in class, because Columbia doesn’t make such considerations. So Laura goes to a bookstore, wanders between the periodicals and the travel section until she’s calmed her pulse enough to face what she really came for. There’s no What To Expect When You’re Expecting A Werewolf, but the stuff for humans - she’s supposed to be getting different vitamins or something, maybe?

As a werewolf, she looks young for her age, so the cashier checking her out gives her a deeply judgmental look for the books she gets. Laura smiles with all her teeth, and she may be young and pregnant, but humans still have some ingrained threat response, so the cashier says nothing and casts her eyes down.

Reading in a Starbucks ends up being kind of disheartening: she throws out her coffee when she’s drunk barely a quarter of it, because apparently she’s not going to be having caffeine at all for the next six months. Reading another couple of chapters isn’t any more reassuring, and it’s made worse by the fact that she doesn’t know how much of it is even applicable to a werewolf. She gets a herbal tea and heads home, because home territory is where she wants to be. Beacon Hills is still what she yearns for when she thinks of home, but she knows that all that safety is just charred wreckage now, and tries to make herself yearn for a tiny apartment with shitty water pressure.

When she gets home, Derek is cooking. It’s Hamburger Helper, but it’s not like either of them are particularly good in the kitchen, so having a hot homemade meal at all is a comfort. She goes to their room and strips off her coat and scarf and big cowl-neck sweater and her jeans that are damp from snow and getting too tight, puts on sweats and a Tshirt. Derek brings her a plate before she can rejoin him in the kitchen, and they eat on the bed. Derek does the dishes, too, before he cracks open his textbooks. He should be focusing more on school, but Laura - she knows why. She remembers the way her dad orbited her mom when she was pregnant with Cora - and of course the useless stuff sticks out, and nothing about the shift, or whether she has to avoid certain foods. Derek must be remembering it too.

At least she knows the baby will be a werewolf: there’s no uncertainty, when both parents are born wolves. It’ll be more resilient than a human baby. Both of Peter’s kids had been human like his wife, and they’d been sick all the time and needed shots and checkups.

Laura reads more of the pregnancy books while Derek studies. It takes a while for him to notice, because she’s usually reading something, but she can feel a current run through him as he spots the title. “So are we - can we talk about it now?”

Laura stares at the ceiling and tries to not be terrified. “I mean, not like it’s going to become less of a thing.”

He rolls over and kisses her stomach. “It’ll be pack,” he says quietly.

She cards her fingers through his hair. “Yeah.”

-

The moon is full again, and some of her pants don’t fit. She’s been trying to get their lawyer to approve access to her trust so she can start, like, setting up somewhere more permanent. She could talk to the other wolves in New York, but they’d be able to smell her and Derek on each other, smell that they’re siblings, and she shouldn’t have to justify or explain herself to anyone.

It’s still the cold dark depths of winter, and it feels all of a cycle, with the world still leafless and her pregnancy still easily hidden. She’ll have it in the summer when the whole world is teeming with life. It’s still terrifying, but she can almost cope with the thought.

-

The moon is full again, and she goes for a jog through the park, which smells like wet earth layered over hints of spring. It burns off some of the restless energy in her, the part that wants to shift and flash her eyes back at the moon. It feels like a fever. Exercise is supposed to be okay, though, and she’s been careful about it, not pushing herself until she drops. Laura runs a path she knows humans take, goes only human-fast.

It takes a while, going this slow, but she feels less like crawling into her other skin when she’s done.

She gets home and showers and eats one of Derek’s carefully packed lunches. She’s told him he doesn’t have to do that, because he works ridiculously hard, but he’s been weird about taking care of her. Or, not weird, but - more like a lover than a sibling. And he’s both, still, but it makes her squirm inside to think about it too much. But even with the awkwardness of it, he’s a way better cook than her, and it beats fast food, so it’s not like she’s going to Alpha him into stopping.

Curled up and watching Netflix while the scents of spring come in from outside, Laura ignores the boxes that are half-packed. She’s still over-warm, and they’ve still got a week before they’re giving up their current place, and having bought the new place outright means they have to make their own arrangements for utilities, so there’s still Internet. She’s not in a hurry, even though she maybe should be.

The show wraps up, and she’s done with this season, so she levers her body out of bed, not quite awkward yet but getting there, and puts on some music to start packing to. They don’t really have that much, still, because they haven’t done the kind of dedicated shopping they’d need to replace a lifetime of slow accumulation. So objectively it’s not that bad, even if it feels that way.

By the time Derek gets in, the only things left to pack are their groceries and her laptop. He looks exhausted until he looks around, and then perks up noticeably. “Can I drive?”

Laura grins at him. “You have to pack all the boxes, but sure.”

He carries most of them: she’s werewolf-strong, but pregnant women aren’t supposed to strain themselves, and that probably still applies to Alphas.

Derek drives to the new place, driving too fast whenever traffic allows it. Laura doesn’t say a word, because neither of them gets to drive much, and she knows he has fun. She also doesn’t really want to talk in general: she feels kind of funny, like she’s actually sick somehow. It’s stupid, and probably nerves.

The moon is low, chasing the sun to the horizon, and the light is streaming through the naked windows when they park and start taking things inside. Or, well, Laura takes the linens and starts making the bed while Derek brings in other stuff. It’s the top floor, which means that if several other buildings were knocked down they’d actually have a view of Morningside Park. All the other units in the building are already rented, so Laura will be able to cut back her hours at the diner later and still not have to tap the trust for a stipend. It’s sort of cool, to have a plan in place. It’s closer to being a pack than being on the run.

When the bed is made, she spreads out on the cool sheets. She still feels feverish. The moonlight, which usually makes her feel better, makes it worse. It’s been so long since she shifted. The moon, tinted gold and purple with the twilight, falls over the swell of her belly, and she can feel Bitty Hale move.

It feels wrong, though, stronger than anything she’s felt yet.

There’s a rush of wetness in her panties, and Laura’s seized with panic. This doesn’t feel right.

-

It’s over by midnight.

-

She clutches at Derek as the sun rises. They’re both awake and dry-eyed. Laura feels empty in more than body, and doesn’t want to face the day.

Neither she nor Derek move until the sun is high: biological necessity is what forces them up. Laura gets back into bed, but Derek goes out to his afternoon class: he’s gotten better at keeping going no matter what. He’s only been gone half an hour before she drags herself up: she won’t be less resilient than her beta baby brother.

She packs up the maternity wear she’d bought, shoves it in the guest room closet where it won’t get seen, showers, and starts a load of laundry in the basement. There will be no more smell of incipient baby in their home.

When Derek gets home it’s done, and she’s done most of the unpacking. He ends up on his knees, his face buried in her soft, too-tender stomach. She squeezes him tight and says, “We’ll get through this, too.”

 


End file.
